It resembles a mirage. On a canvas so large. They call it life. That illusion so rife. Never mind its name. They say it is all in a game. Seems so unbelievably eternal. But it is only the end that is real.
Me, me!!!
- Sepiamniac
- Madras, TAMIL NADU, India
- Not an outdoor person.. prefer to get buried beneath books, music and movies... has these strange philosophies about life that might puzzle you. At the same time, likes to live life. Loves simple people, especially those who veil their formidable knowledge behind humility (The poems here don't reflect my mind or anyone else's. Maybe, just a patch of what various people go through.)
Friday, February 22, 2013
A morning
Somewhere in the sky
A rainbow peeps from a dark cloud
Drops of rain drench the famished earth
A bright sun ray breaks the hopeless darkness
Flowers bloom and the parched ground comes alive
A familiar voice calls from within
Offering a hand to come along
Into the woods of haze
I walk along wide-eyed
Into the woods that offer a hope
Yesterday is bygone and here is today
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